


the way you laugh, the way your kisses taste

by ErinWrites417



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fourth of July, Oliver is a sucker for all things Felicity even if he's not initially on board, One Shot, Post S3 Roadtrip Fic, Quick glimpses into a single day, sexy kissing and just living their best lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 12:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19476097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinWrites417/pseuds/ErinWrites417
Summary: During their summer traveling across the world, Oliver and Felicity stop in a small town over the 4th of July, one of Oliver's least favorite holidays. Until he spends it with Felicity.





	the way you laugh, the way your kisses taste

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, the title is from a Civil Wars song. This one is called To Whom it May Concern.
> 
> Huge, gigantic thanks to @sammy55431 for her beta. Life saving, truly.

She awakens him with lazy kisses and soft caresses along his sides, only to be startled apart by the loud bang of fireworks exploding just outside their hotel window.

“I hate the 4th of July,” Oliver groans against her lips, still determined to carry out his original plan. He hitches her leg around his hip and rolls so she settles atop him, her hands firm against his chest. She pulls back, ignoring his huff of frustration, with a look of skepticism on her face.

“You hate the 4th of July? Why?” she asks, running her hands along his bare chest, settling them on his shoulders. In turn, his hands roam over her lower back and hips and eventually he shrugs.

“I don’t know. I was never a big fan to begin with, but after...everything, it’s mostly because I really hate the unexpected explosions.”

Felicity nods, her fingertips tracing over the scars on his upper chest, “Fair. Though the barbequing and lemonade and parades and baseball games and _expected_ fireworks can be fun.”

“I suppose,” Oliver concedes, only half interested in the conversation when a mostly naked Felicity is straddling his lap, her ass cupped in his hands.

“What if I take you to do the good 4th of July stuff? I think I can change your mind,” she suggests, hands gripping his biceps and pulling at him to sit up.

His hair was getting longer now, back to the length she was used to, and is sticking up in every direction. It’s unbelievably endearing when paired with his serious expression. She moves to hold his face, waiting for an answer, her eyes widening.

“One condition,” he says with a grin and a laugh, his arms wrapping around her, big palms smoothing over her shoulder blades and lower back. His stubble rubs the skin over her breastbone, leaving a pink tinge to her skin. He gently kisses the spot where his chin had been, lingering there, sending a shiver down her spine.

She hums and brings her arms gently around his head to hold him there. “What’s that?” she asks, her voice high and breathless. .

“Give me thirty minutes.” He pulls her tighter onto his lap, making his intentions perfectly clear.

“Make it forty and you have a deal,” she laughs, tilting his face up to hers and kissing him. 

So he rolls her under him to take advantage of every single one of those forty minutes.

Eventually, she manages to drag his heavy, sated body from their hotel bed with promises of pancakes with fruit and whipped cream at the local diner.

“I can think of a much better use for the whipped cream,” he hums suggestively into her neck, fingers brushing her upper thigh. She chuckles and pulls away from him, the gravel crunching beneath their feet as they walk the couple hundred yards to the restaurant.

“We’re going to do everything. No holds barred. And no complaining!”

Oliver groans a little but straightens up and follows her through the door of the old fashioned diner. They slip into a booth, side-by-side, his arm around her shoulders. And as promised, Felicity shares her eggs with him and he manages to smear whipped cream across her cheek and bright red lips. He kisses the white fluff away without missing a beat.

“God,” Felicity groans when he pulls away, “we are _that_ couple.”

But the smirk on her scarlet lips tells him she doesn’t care one bit.

They go to a local parade and sit on the grass, watching float after float drive by. He buys her a blue raspberry sno-cone from the local girl-scout troop and makes sure that every piece of candy thrown their way ends up in her lap. At one point, one of the high school’s floats starts spraying into the crowd with water guns and Oliver suffers a direct hit to the chest, the water blooming across his shirt and dripping down to his abdomen.

Felicity laughs as he grumbles something about ‘stupid kids’ and ‘probably wasn’t even aiming for me’ as he wipes his chest with the napkins that had come with Felicity’s sno-cone.

“Just take it off,” Felicity cajoles, “give the people what they want.”

“That is not happening,” he huffs, tossing the last of the napkins in the garbage can a few feet away. His shirt is still dark with water and it clings to his skin.

“Oh, no you don’t, no moping allowed hon,” she says with a pat to his wet shirt. “You’ll be dry before you know it. Want some of my sno-cone?”

He smiles and shakes his head, unable to stay even the least bit upset when she’s grinning at him like _that_.

“No, but you know what might make it better?” He doesn’t elaborate further, lunging for her instead to wrap her in his arms against his wet chest. She shouts and tries to roll away from him, but, of course, she’s too slow. She laughs so hard her sno-cone falls to the ground, forgotten, as she hugs him back.

“I did some research. Apparently, the town hosts a barbeque every year, $10 to get in, all you can eat.”

“I feel like I’ve been eating non-stop,” he says, eyeing the sign posted at the entrance to the park.

“And it’s perfect because the baseball stadium is just a few blocks away. Double header today.”

They approach a long table manned by half-a-dozen middle-aged women, taking money and handing out tickets for the meals. Oliver slides a twenty across the table to a woman who can’t seem to stop ogling his arms. Felicity pokes his side as they walk toward the tables piled with food.

“She definitely wanted a piece of that,” she says, pinching his abdomen, meeting only solid muscle under his shirt. Oliver rolls his eyes and starts to load his plate with corn, watermelon, and a stacked cheeseburger.

They sit at a table by themselves, laughing about the obscene amount of food piled on their plates and the oversized cups of beer. They’re talking about their upcoming camping trip on the Pacific Crest Trail when a young couple and their three children approach the table.

“Do you mind if we sit here? We promise we won’t be too rowdy,” the mother says, hitching a toddler on her hip.

“Oh, of course,” Felicity scoots down to the end of the bench, watching as the two older children heave themselves up on the bench next to Oliver. The oldest, a boy no older than six or so, stares up at him, watching as Oliver takes a bite of his cheeseburger.

“My mom got me a hotdog. I don’t like cheeseburgers.”

Oliver, never missing a beat, feigns disbelief. “Don’t like cheeseburgers? What a shame.”

The boy wrinkles his nose and shakes his head and then takes a gigantic bite of his hotdog, chomping with a satisfied smile.

It doesn’t take long for the boy, Marcus, to become enamored with Oliver, talking with him about his t-ball team and telling him all about his new puppy, a labrador named Molly. Oliver’s eyes go soft and his smile is genuine when the little girl, Ava, shyly says she likes books about animals, especially penguins.

_A natural, of course,_ Felicity thinks to herself with a slight shake of her head.

When Oliver asks Marcus and Ava to be his partners in the big game of red light-green-light that’s due to start in the field adjacent to the picnic tables, they instantly look to their mother, eyes wide and pleading.

“If that’s okay, that is,” Oliver adds with a sheepish smile, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Of course,” she assents, “just be careful, okay?” She looks directly at her son.

“Yeah, mom, I know!” Marcus says, shoving a chip in his mouth and leaping up from the bench. Ava is hot on his heels, running after her brother excitedly. Oliver smiles at Felicity, dropping a kiss on her cheek before setting off after the kids. They chatter excitedly to him, ready for the game to begin.

“That’s a keeper,” their mother says with a sideways glance at Felicity.

Felicity smiles and watches as Oliver lets Marcus and Ava hang on his arms and lifts them into the air.

“Don’t I know it.”

It’s at Felicity’s insistence that they leave the second of the double-header baseball games early.

"Felicity,” Oliver whines, “the game isn’t even over yet. We haven’t even gotten to the 7th inning stretch.”

“I have a surprise for you,” she explains, tugging his arm as they walk through the turn-styles at the entrance of the stadium. The jersey she’d purchased for herself flutters around her waist, the green and yellow of the jersey clashing spectacularly with her red shorts. 

Very short red shorts, Oliver notes distractedly. He's going to do something about that later.

The sun is setting, almost behind the mountains now and the air is cooling around them. Felicity grips his hand tightly in her own, loving how big his hands feels around hers.

When they reach the car, she reaches into his jeans pocket and fishes out the keys, grinning as she marches to the driver’s side. She slides in and waits for him to jump over the door into the passenger side.

They drive just a few miles down to the riverbank, not another human being in sight. Ducks swim along the edge of the water and the sound of crickets fills the air.

"Felicity, what-“

“Just roll with it, Oliver,” she says as she opens the car door and moves to the trunk. He shakes his head once and joins her.

Oliver watches, thoroughly amused as Felicity unloads the trunk. She’d insisted on making a run to the grocery store before the parade, taking pains to make sure he didn’t know what she was tucking into the trunk for the day. Oliver was more than happy to go along with her plans, content to let her take charge. She whips out a blanket, multiple bags of candy, and a single carton of boxed wine.

He settles onto the blanket and pulls her down to sit between his legs, her head against his chest. The breeze off the river is cool across Felicity’s face and she and Oliver watch the last bit of the sunset, the sky streaked with pinks and oranges, in stark contrast with the dark mountains below. 

She loves the feel of his chest rumbling against her back as he talks, telling her about a 4th of July when he was young when he and Tommy got in huge trouble for playing tennis with firecrackers and almost setting a field on fire while on vacation. 

He goes silent for a moment, gazing up at the stars for a moment. “What are we waiting for?” he asks, his breath ruffling her hair. 

“You’ll see,” she replies and absentmindedly links his fingers with hers.

As if on her cue, the sky several miles in the distance erupts with light, the fireworks distant booms barely carrying across the water. Green, blue, gold, red, purple, and silver sparks fill the inky blackness. Oliver watches Felicity’s face, the colors flashing in her eyes, more content to watch her than the show.

When the fireworks stop, he presses his lips against her temple.

“Where to now?” he murmurs. She rubs her hands along his thighs and tilts her head up and back to look at him.

“What if we just stay right here?”

Oliver kisses the top of her head softly. “I’ll go wherever you want me to go.”


End file.
